


Roger's Boys

by spn1dneedit



Series: First Times [1]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: 3 + 1 fic, Get Together, Kissing, M/M, Polyamory, Roger-centric, So much kissing, not much happens besides kissing, they all love roger and roger loves them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-10-11 15:22:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17449526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spn1dneedit/pseuds/spn1dneedit
Summary: Three times Roger Taylor kisses each of his bandmates, and the one time they all kiss him.or,Roger kisses one boy and decides he wants to kiss a couple more too.





	Roger's Boys

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta'd so lemme know if there are a ton of mistakes, also not sure when or where this is set but like just go with it!  
> Based mostly on this ask sent to queenslasharchive on tumblr:  
> HC: The Queen boys have all been kissed by Roger at least once . Freddie was to piss some homophobe off in a pub. (It worked, Freddie kissed him again later to thank him.) Brian was because he was drunk and really, really wanted to kiss him. (The second kiss was because he was drunk the first time and really, really wanted to try it sober.) John was to hide from a crazy fan, it benefits them both. (The second one was just because Roger could.)

i.

Music blasted through the speakers of the pub, and Freddie moved his hips along to the beat, head thrown back and a wide grin on his face. Roger looked over at his friend from the bar and smiled too. Watching Freddie dancing was quite the experience; the way he managed to look like he didn’t give a fuck if anyone watched him, while still capturing everyone’s attention, was incredible.

Roger sipped his beer and kept his eyes on Freddie, Deaky and Brian having left already. His eyes flitted over Freddie’s entire body, from the low-cut white tank he was wearing, down to the black pants that left nothing up top to the imagination but flared out at the bottom. It was a mild outfit for a night out with Fred, Roger thought, but still he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the curve of his friend’s ass, or the subtle pertness of the nipples that poked through his shirt.

A man approached Freddie then, stalking up to him, fists balled and jaw set, clenched tight. Roger jumped off his stool at the bar, ready to put himself in the middle of whatever was about to go down. Most people knew Freddie when they went out and would just smile and brush it off as Freddie danced with, flirted with, and took home anyone and everyone that he wanted, sometimes more than one at once. Every once in a while, though, people would make a scene about it, getting up in Fred’s face, calling him a whore or a slut, or a fag.

As Roger walked over, he saw the man yank Freddie away from his dancing partners, so he walked faster, trying to reach them before things got out of hand.

“It’s just not fucking right, you fags have infiltrated every fucking club in the Western Hemisphere, but I won’t let it happen here. It’s disgusting.” The man sneered down at Freddie, who stood with a smirk on his face and his hands on his hips. He looked as if the man was telling him a vaguely amusing joke, not practically spitting in his face.

“Do you fucking hear me, fag? I’m telling you that I won’t stand for any of that fairy shit here, now get the hell out or I’ll put you out.” The man was all red cheeks and furrowed brow now, and even in the flickering disco lights of the club, Roger could tell how angry he was getting.

He finally reached the two as Freddie opened his mouth, surely about to quip something at the angry man that would result in a full out brawl. Not something they needed tonight. The blonde placed his hand on Freddie’s arm to get his attention, brown eyes locked with blue.

“C’mon Fred, let’s get out of here, this bloke’s gonna blow his fuckin’ top.”

Freddie’s eyes lit up mischievously, and Roger knew that something big was coming next, “Roger, darling, if he’d going to blow up, we might as well give him something to blow up about.” Before Roger could really even process what was happening, one of Freddie’s hands was in his hair, pulling him in close to Freddie’s mouth, and the other was flitting over his arm before linking their hands together.

Freddie’s lips were tight on Rogers for the first few seconds after he pressed them together but relaxed quickly after that. Thoughts raced through Roger’s head.

_Was Freddie really kissing him right now? Why? How did Freddie’s mouth taste like fresh mint more than anything, when he’d been drinking and smoking all night? What the fuck was going on?_

Roger all but stopped breathing as Freddie gently pressed his tongue into his mouth while tangling his finger’s in the blonde’s hair, deepening the kiss. Roger responded right away to that, letting his own tongue venture tentatively into his friend’s mouth. He took the hand that wasn’t entwined with Freddie’s and placed it on his ass, squeezing what he’d been admiring from a far just a minute ago.

The kiss was anything like what Roger had experienced before, not just because Freddie was a man, and not even because Freddie was a man with a moustache, but because of the way Freddie kissed him. The older man kissed Roger in a way you only kiss when you’ve had tons of experience but were hungry as hell for more. He was in control of the kiss, but not demanding; sweet, but not soft; most of all, he got Roger so hard he felt like he might come in his pants just from kissing Freddie.

“You guys are fucking nasty!” The man, who Roger had almost forgotten was there, screamed at the two men, sputtering and working himself up even more than before.

Roger took a step back from Freddie, removing his hand from his friend’s ass with a sheepish smile. He kept their hands linked at his side, though.

“We should go.” Freddie was grinning wildly, but started pulling Roger toward the exit, sidestepping the screaming man.

Roger ran his free hand over his lips, nodding in agreement and letting himself be pulled out of the club.

When they were finally out, walking down the street towards Roger’s flat, Freddie turned to the younger man and smiled, “thanks for that. When we left, he looked about ready to kill us, but it was fun to get him so worked up like that.”

Roger lit a cigarette and then pushed a hand through his hair, laughing on his breath out, “yeah, anytime.”

Immediately he regretted it. _I’m fucking straight, I can’t just go ‘round telling my mate he can kiss me ‘anytime’ to piss off homophobes._  

Freddie raised one eyebrow, “Nice touch with the hand on my ass, I think I heard him gag when you did that.”

Roger choked on the inhale when he said that, feeling a deep flush creep up his cheeks.

Freddie must have sensed his friend tensing, because he winked at Roger playfully before walking a couple steps ahead of Roger and calling over his shoulder, “C’mon Rog, it doesn’t compromise your heterosexuality that you wanted to get your hands on all of this.” On ‘this’, Freddie grabbed a handful of his own ass with a cheeky smile, “my ass transcends all lines of sexuality.”

He may be right about that, Roger thought, but it might be a little bit compromising that he couldn’t keep his eyes off it the rest of the night, and when Roger’s head hit his pillow that night, he dreamt of feeling Fred’s lips on his again.

 

ii.

“You’re fucking wasted, Bri.” Roger smiled over at Brian, who was sitting with his long legs outstretched on the floor of his apartment. The two of them had finished a 12 pack of beers together, laughing with each other as the TV played quietly in the background.

“If I’m wasted, you’re right pissed.” The blonde shrugged, nodding a little bit to himself.

“You’re not wrong about that.” Roger watched as his friend and bandmate scooted back onto the ground and laid down fully on his back. A sleepy smile crossed Brian’s face as he did that, surely only a half-step away from falling asleep right on the floor of Roger’s sitting room. The dim lighting from the single lamp and television did nothing to slow the process.

“Amazing, we’ve now established that we’re both drunk. Great work, detective. My eyes have gone a bit droopy and I’ve just yawned. Do you think I could be tired as well?” Roger wasn’t looking at Brian, but he could hear the smile in his friend’s playful words.

He knew the sound of Brian’s ‘smiling’ voice well; it was just a touch higher than his usual tone, a bit slurred with the alcohol.

There were a lot of things that Roger knew about Brian without looking at him.

He knew that Brian’s face was surely relaxed, his mouth slightly ajar and his eyes hooded because of his drunken sleepiness. He knew that the top three buttons on Brian’s high-waisted trousers were unbuttoned and his fly was splayed open as far as it would go. He knew that, at some point, Brian would stretch his arms up, causing his pants to ride down and his shirt to ride up, leaving a small line of skin that Roger would watch like a hawk. He knew that after that, Brian would trail a hand down his side and scratch his belly lethargically before letting his hand drift farther. Roger knew that Brian’s hand would absentmindedly brush against his cock, and that Brian would leave it there for a second before dropping his hand to rest again at his side. He also knew that he probably shouldn’t be thinking about his bandmate this much, especially shouldn’t be having these _kinds_ of thoughts.

But if Roger knew one thing about himself, it was that he couldn’t stop the thoughts if he tried. Especially after that kiss with Freddie. Roger had seen the routine happen many times because Brian was a terribly predictable drunk, so it wasn’t Roger’s fault that he’d memorized each movement of his bandmate’s beautiful, deft hands, and what exactly he looked like while drunk and tired. It was just his fault that he felt himself harden at the though of brushing his own hand across Brian’s clothed cock.

_Jesus._

Roger shook his head to clear his mind and then let himself fall back too, laying down right next to Brian. Inadvertently when he did this, his right arm laid over Brian’s where it had fallen back to his side after his tummy scratch and light dick brush. His hand rested in the palm of Brian’s outstretched one and it brought him back again to that night a few weeks ago, the club with Freddie, the kiss, Freddie’s hand linked tightly with his own.

A sigh left Roger’s lips at the memory, how sweet Freddie’s mouth had been, despite the strong taste of alcohol. How Roger had never felt a kiss like it. He wondered, maybe, if kissing Brian would feel similar. Of course, Brian was less experienced with men than Freddie, and his lips were perpetually a bit more chapped, but would he be just as firm as Freddie had been? Would Brian press his tongue boldly into his mouth as Freddie had, or would he wait for Roger to deepen the kiss?

Roger realized they’d been sitting in silence for a while, and peaked over at Brian, wondering if his friend really had fallen asleep. Brian’s lips were parted as he breathed evenly, his cheeks flushed a light pink from the booze.

“Are you sleeping?” Roger whispered, propping himself on his side to get a better look at Brian.

The brunet’s eyes fluttered open a bit, “Quite close to it. Why?” His tongue swept slowly across his bottom lip, wetting it slightly, and Roger knew then that he had to see for himself, feel for himself. He had to know if kissing was like Brian was like anything like kissing Freddie.

It wasn’t gay, really. It was only an experiment. If anything, it was science. Roger need to do this, if only to get the incessant thoughts out of his head.

“Because, I wanted to do something.” Roger felt his heart start beating faster in his chest, hoping that Brian would be fine with what he was about to do.

Roger slowly leaned his face down over Brian’s, he was only inches away from his friend, propped up on his elbow. He tilted his head as he got nearer to making contact with Brian’s lips, waiting for any sign of consent or disapproval. Brian just raised one eyebrow, eyes still closed and breathing exceptionally even. Roger took that as a sign and ever so slightly lowered his mouth to Brian’s.  

At first it was just a light brush of their mouths, a whisper of a kiss, full of hesitation and Roger’s held back want and need. Then, when Brian didn’t say anything, didn’t even open his eyes to look at Roger, the blonde leant back down again, fully covering Brian’s mouth with his own.

Neither of them moved for a bit, and Roger wondered if Brian had really fallen asleep, but just as he was about to pull back, Brian parted his own lips and responded to Roger’s kiss.

They kissed slowly for a bit, both of them too drunk and too timid to speed up or deepen this kiss. Ever so slightly, Roger pushed for more. He opened his mouth a bit wider on top of Brian’s, allowing for the shy press of Brian’s tongue against his.

From that, they couldn’t get enough of one another. Brian tasted overwhelmingly like beer, but Roger didn’t mind, hardly even thought about it after the initial kiss. His free hand moved from resting at his sides to tangling in Brian’s curls, and he felt Brian grab his thigh and hike it up over the brunet’s waist. It was a little awkward and only made worse by both of their drunken incoordination, but the kiss quickly turned into a full blown make out session. Little moans left both of their mouths as the two bandmates grasped at each other, lips only leaving one another’s to quickly nip at the others jaw or neck.

Roger repositioned his body so that he was covering Brian fully, his legs bracketing the older one’s hips. Brian’s hands tangled in Roger’s hair, playfully tugging on the short hairs at his nape just to hear Roger gasp high in his throat every once in a while. Their hips ground slowly together, and Roger had never felt anything like it, had never been so acutely aware of every nerve alight in his body and still felt like he was floating above it.

Roger didn’t know how long they’d stayed like that. He didn’t know who’d finally broken the kiss, or when he’d climbed off of Brian. He definitely didn’t know how their hands stayed together through the night, warm fingers linked tightly.

Roger did know that he woke up with a terrible hangover. He also knew that neither he, nor Brian mentioned the kiss at breakfast.

Roger also knew that getting the dirty images of Brian out of his brain just became a lot harder.

 

iii.

Roger had lost sight of his bandmates in all of the chaos. Jim had told them not to go clubbing that night, but none of them had listened and ended running at top speed toward their hotel to escape the massive hoard of fans. The band had never been swarmed like this and were taken fully by surprise, all taking off running with no regard for the others.

Roger had last scene Freddie about a block back, and the older man had winked cheekily at him before ducking quickly behind a parked car, hoping that the people chasing them wouldn’t notice he’d crouched down. Brian had been out of Roger’s sight almost right away, they’d gotten separated as soon as they’d left the club and saw the screaming mass of fans. John left the club before the rest of them, and Roger was sure he made it back to the hotel before the rest of them had been caught up. He hoped so, anyway.

There were only a few girls still following Roger, and they were far enough back that he decided to make a quick left, detouring from the direct route to the hotel. He needed to catch his breath.

He walked down the street for a short while, turning his head back at any sign of movement, hoping it wasn’t more fans.

“Rog,” A familiar voice called, and John stepped out off from against the wall of a building a little farther into the off street. It was hard to see in the dark, the street was only lit by one dull lamp, but Roger recognized his voice instantly.

“God, Deaky, I thought you’d have made it back already.” Roger walked towards his friend and then leant against the wall next to where the other was standing. He lit up a smoke and watched John shake his head.

“I got caught about two blocks ago, and now whenever I try to get back onto the main road to sort myself out, more girls keep appearing. It’s fucking ridiculous.” The brunet snorted out a laugh and then let himself rest against the wall alongside the blonde.

Roger took a long inhale and then breathed out, and watched as the smoke billowed then dissipated into the air, “How long do you think we’ll need to wait before it’s safe to start walking again?”

Deaky shrugged his shoulders and turned to look at Roger, facing the outlet of the alley they were hiding in.

“A few minutes, ten maybe. Just to be sure.” Roger finished his cigarette and they sat in relative quiet for a while, every so often hearing voices of the girls who’d been after them, wondering where they’d gone.

“Wait! There’s an alley down there, maybe they turned down that way.” A teen girl shouted, and the two bandmates looked at each other in panic. If they started running, the girls would be sure to notice it was them and chase after them. If they stayed there, they’d surely be caught and surrounded. There was no way out.

“Yeah, ok, let’s check it out.” Another voice called back to the first, and they were quickly approaching a point where they’d be able to see John and Roger.

“What do we do?” A panicked John whispered, and an idea quickly made itself known to Roger.

“Do you trust me?” He asked John, and then pushed himself off the wall.

John nodded seriously, eyes flickering back and forth between Roger’s own and the inlet of the alley.

The voices of teen girls crept closer, and Roger leapt into action. He grabbed john by both sides of his face and kissed him.

Like most people, when kissed by surprise, John’s first reaction was to gasp and push Roger away. But Roger kept his face close to John, his breath tingling the bassist’s mouth as he whispered, “They’d never think it was us two kissing, and people tend to get freaked out by PDA, so I don’t think they’ll make it very far down the alley before turning around anyway.”

Roger locked eyes with Deaky hopefully and smiled when the brunette nodded softly. Their lips touched again, and it was tentative and chaste. Both of the men too worried about the girls: if they would see them, if they would recognize them if they did, which direction they would run if they got chased.

The kiss was barely even enough to call itself one at first, just two pairs of lips pressed against each other, no movement or anything to indicate either party wanted to be there with each other. The two girls approached the entry though, and it changed everything, desperate to not be caught or seen, John raised his hands from his sides and caught Rogers face between his own hands. Roger was caught off guard and opened his mouth to let out a small, surprised sound, giving way for John to deepen the kiss, licking into the blonde’s mouth with newfound passion.

Roger stumbled a little with the sudden force, and John used that to turn the two and then crowd Roger up against the wall, kissing him deeper and pressing their bodies tightly against each other. John slid his left hand down from where it had previously rested on Roger’s cheek to the back of his neck, pushing him gently into himself, drinking the blonde in.

Roger felt almost unable to process what was going on. He kissed John back with abandon, moaning low and gasping high when Deaky ground his hips further into his own.

The two became so engrossed in each other that neither one of them even recognized the girls venturing farther into the alley where they were. They didn’t notice when one girl pointed at them under the dim lights and turned to her friend, “gross! Why can’t people just wait until they get home to make out?” The two boys kept kissing even after the girls had left. The girls had retreated back almost immediately after seeing the two of them, deciding that it wasn’t worth it to even look down this way past the couple kissing.

The kissed for several long minutes, dragging by and racing forward all at once, the somewhat chaste kiss had turned to heavy breathing, fast heartbeats, and rock-hard dicks in pants.

John was the one to pull away, breathing hard as he looked down at the pavement below them and kicked a rock awkwardly with his toe, undeniably aroused but also inescapably embarrassed, and Roger felt the same way.

“Do you think the coast is clear now?” Roger let out a shaky laugh, and the two of them pushed off the wall and walked together back to their hotel. As they walked, Roger thought about two things.

_One: He had now kissed all of his bandmates._

_Two: He really fucking wanted to do it again._

\+ i.

Roger’s mind became consumed with thoughts of his bandmates. Day and night, he’d go back to the memory of each kiss. He’d be drumming along at a show, take one look at John’s legs and remember how it felt to have them slotted between his own, their erections grinding together in the soft glow of the streetlight. The band would all be playing scrabble together, and Roger’s pants would tighten at the sight of Brian plucking tiles from his lineup and creating his words, reminded of when those fingers had carded through the hair at Roger’s nape. He’d make tea and let it go cold, watching Freddie sip on his own cup, tongue jutting out to lick the rim every so often, thinking wistfully about the first set of male lips Roger had ever felt against his own.

Every night, Roger would climb into his bunk on the tour bus, or bed in the hotel, and jerk off to the thought of the three of them. He closed his eyes and thought about sinking his fingers into Brian’s hair as he sucked him off. Roger experimented with varying levels of pressure and tightness as he fucked into his fist, imagining what it would feel like with Freddie’s hand instead of his own. Sometimes, when he knew there was no one around to hear him, Roger would use whatever was around that could substitute as lube, and press a finger into himself, wishing that John was over him, getting him ready for what would come next.

He thought of each of them, all of them, until he came. Even after, when he had already wiped himself down and gotten himself into bed, Roger was plagued with thoughts of the other three joining him. If only just to cuddle up close and sleep.

Roger woke up one day to pounding on his hotel room door.

“Go away!” He tried to cover his head with a pillow, hoping that housekeeping would take the hint and move on to the next room and not bother him again.

No such luck.

The pounding resumed again, but this time, it was accompanied by Freddie’s exasperated voice from the other side.

“Roger! Wake up! It’s two o’clock in the bloody afternoon.” Roger rolled over and checked the alarm clock that was on the bedside table, sure enough red numbers blinked 2:18 at him.

The blonde got out of bed and softly padded to the door of the room, opening it to reveal all three of his bandmates, not just Freddie, behind it.

“Mornin’ Rog.” Brian smirked down at the drummer before sidestepping him and coming in to the room, John and Freddie following close behind him, leaving Roger to shut the door.

“Hello guys, nice to see you, would you like to come into my room, even though it’s obvious I’ve just woken up and am not ready for visitors?” Roger mocked under his breath, watching with suspicious eyes as the other members of Queen made themselves at home in his hotel room.

“Roger, we’re just going to cut right to the chase here.” Deaky said from his spot sitting in the only chair in the room, across from where Brian and Freddie sat together at the end of the bed.

“Okay…” Roger’s head filled with thoughts. Of course, he knew that he’d been off. He was completely aware of the mistakes he’d made and the way they’d negatively affected their performances, but Roger didn’t think it’d been that bad. He didn’t think it was to the point where they’d need to have a discussion about it.

“You’ve been acting quite odd these last few weeks, and it’s really starting to freak us out.” Brian and Freddie nodded in agreement, and Roger looked between the three of them, trying to get a read on the room. Were they mad at him? Concerned about something?

“I know. I’m sorry.” Roger looked down at his feet, all too aware that he was only wearing a t-shirt and boxers as three men he’d kissed before looked at him intently.

“You don’t have to be sorry, love, just tell us what’s got you all worked up lately.” Freddie’s voice was soft, and concern was evident on every part of his face.

Roger turned to hide his face as he felt a pink blush spread on his cheeks, “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

“Obviously it’s not nothing, Rog.” Brian started to stand up from the bed, slowly approaching Roger as if he were a skittish cat Brian was nervous to approach too quickly.

Still, Roger kept his head turned from the other three in shame. How could he tell them that he’d kissed each of them? Not only that, but how could he say that it had been the best three kisses of his life and every waking moment was now filled with replays of those nights? How could he tell them that he wanted nothing more than for things to go back to normal, but on the same hand wanted, so desperately, for everything to change? How could he say that he wished he’d never kissed any of them, but he wanted them to kiss him more than anything else?

“Does it have anything to do with you making out with all of us?” John’s eyebrows were raised, and his lips turned into a half smirk as Roger finally raised his eyes to meet John’s gaze.

“You guys know about that?”  Blue eyes flickered over the faces of the others in the room.

Freddie just shrugged, “I didn’t think it wasn’t supposed to be much of a secret.”

Roger turned his head to Brian, who looked a bit more sheepish from where he was standing, “I was so drunk I was half sure I’d dreamt it all, then I talked to Fred and…”

“You’d been ignoring us for a few days, and I thought maybe you were mad, embarrassed maybe, about what’d happened,” Deaky smiled up at Roger, “So I told the Brian and Fred what went on between us, just to find out you’d done the same thing with them.”

“So, you all know about everything then?”  

Nods all around the room.

“And you’re all ok with it?”

Nods again.

“Kind of wish you’d said something sooner though, mate, we could’ve been doing this instead of tiptoeing around you all week.” As Roger was about to ask, “doing what?”, Freddie crossed the room in just a couple of strides and pulled Roger in close to him, pressing his mouth to the blonde’s quickly.

Roger melted easily into the kiss, aware of the other two in the room, but focused on kissing Freddie back. Not holding back, Roger deepened the kiss, arms circled Freddie’s waist and he moaned when the singer pulled back a bit to nip lightly at his bottom lip before diving back into Roger’s mouth.

For minutes, the two stood there in the middle of the room, lips moving madly against one another’s while their hips ground gently together.

“Not that I don’t absolutely love the show, but you’re sort of hogging him, Fred.” Brian said after a while, smiling from where he was standing near the bed. Freddie and Roger pulled away from each other slowly, but Roger left his arms draped loosely around Freddie’s waist.

Freddie pulled fully away from Roger with a shy smile, more bashful than the drummer had ever seen, but he quickly fixed his face and turned the smile into a cheeky grin.

“That was a little bit of a thank you, I guess, for that night, with the man. You were great, love.”

Freddie hadn’t even sat down in his spot next to Deaky before Brian pulled Roger in close, speaking softly into his ear, “I want to know what it’s like to kiss you when I’m not wasted. I’ve been thinking about it for weeks.”

Roger’s breath caught in his chest, everything was moving too fast, too slow, and just right all at once. Freddie had just kissed him again, Brian’s eyes were fluttering slow as he leaned in for his turn, and Roger was harder in his boxers than he’d ever been, including during all three kisses.

Brian’s lips touched his again, but unlike the last time, there was no initial hesitation or beating around the bush. Brian took Roger’s face in his hands and boldly licked into his mouth, causing the younger man to whine deep in his throat.

Not one to be completely complacent in anything, Roger reached up into Brian’s hair and yanked a bit. Brian gasped into Roger’s mouth, giving him a moment to take control of the kiss. Both men were breathing heavy by the time Brian pulled back, having spent nearly the entire kiss trying to gain control from the other.

“I think Deaks is getting a little anxious over there, waiting for his turn.”

Roger caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror that hung across the room from the bed, his hair was sticking up at all angles and his lips were red and kiss swollen. He looked used, like a blonde little whore waiting for his third boyfriend to show up and mess him up a little more. Roger loved it. Still looking at himself in the mirror, Roger called back to John, “Get over here.”

John took the blonde in his arms, and just as he was leaning down to seal their lips together, Roger linked his fingers behind John’s neck but leaned back, “And what’s your kiss for?” He asked with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“What?”

“Freddie’s was a thank you for when I let him kiss me to piss of that guy at the club,” Roger kissed the right side of the bassist’s mouth, “Brian said he wanted to kiss me again, this time sober”, Roger tilted his head and pressed a second kiss to the left side of Deaky’s mouth, “So, John Deacon, what’s your second kiss for?” He waited, lips hovering directly over John’s.

Again, the half smirk appeared on John’s face, “Just because I want to, I suppose.” A good enough reason for Roger.

Like the previous two second kisses, there was less hesitation in the initial press of John’s lips against Roger’s. Unlike Freddie and Brian, John kissed him softer than the first time, fingers carding lightly through Roger’s hair, no rushing or pushing. It turned Roger on more than he’d thought it would, soft kisses and light touches. Before he knew it, he was close to coming in his boxers, John’s hand lightly cupping his ass as he ground his hard dick against the fabric of the brunet’s jeans.

John and Roger kissed until Roger couldn’t take it anymore; rock hard, lips swollen. He was exhausted after three back to back make out sessions, but happier than he’d ever been. Roger disconnected his lips from John’s, moving to lay his head on John’s shoulder.

As he turned his head though, Roger caught a glimpse of the other two men. They were tangled together on the bed, both of their shirts thrown to the ground and their pants unbuttoned. It was the hottest thing Roger had fucking seen, and if the way John’s breath sped up a bit was any indicator, it was to him as well. All exhaustion Roger had felt earlier vanished immediately.

Blue eyes met hazel as Roger cocked his head toward the bed, “Just the two of them looks a bit sad, doesn’t it? I think we should join them.”

“I was just about to say the same thing.”

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Leaving a kudos/comment would be nice, also visit me on tumblr @ zwow.tumblr.com if you'd like


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